(02/01/2021) The Place of History

Historians and poets are called to serve no less than griots, prophets, those who can reveal, the unseen levels of truth surrounding events and lives. Because the accountability, process and substance they bring to market are priceless, seeking their wares requires deep humility, respect, and wisdom provided by the universe. The following original poem is offered in exchange during Black History Month 2021 and is titled, The Place of History. It is written: Ecclesiastes 7: 9-12, King James Version (KJV): 9 Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bosom of fools. 10 Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these? for thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this. 11 Wisdom is good with an inheritance: and by it there is profit to them that see the sun. 12 For wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence: but the excellency of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life to them that have it.

THE GOLDEN ARROW: Acts 17: 23-31, King James Version (KJV): 23 For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you. 24 God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; 25 Neither is worshipped with men’s hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; 26 And hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; 27 That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us: 28 For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring. 29 Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man’s device. 30 And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men every where to repent: 31 Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead.

THE DOUBLE DAGGER: So Help Me GOD! (01/22/2021); The “History” Of Christ (10/08/2019); Black History Month, 2019 (02/24/2019); Arrayed In Sacred Favor (02/25/2018); Bloody Sunday -- Black History (02/14/2018); Black History -- Johannesburg Gold (02/05/2018); Secular History, Sacred Revelation? (01/11/2018); The American Covenant? (03/03/2015)

THE PLACE OF HISTORY

A Poem for Black History Month, February 2021

Talking History can not be cheap-talk and talking smack.

There are some who say the place of History

must be the mind, and not the heart. For the

heart is turned too easily by keys of feeling,

passion, archtypal hopes, and fantasies, the wisps

of legend and dream, all ancient power

magic, death, and lies. The mind engages knowing

as a firmament and platform to continue sacred order

and imparted consciousness. What is uttered

breathed as spirit, poured forth as word

the sound of many waters finds focus firm

direction, through desire, strength by action

with presence and fulfilment, and must explain itself

when historians and poets are no longer there to defend.

America cannot be the primary place for our History

for our trek has been like that of the Hottentots

who rose from the South of Continent exploring north to

east, east to south, and sowing Amazulu seed

and returned the way they came till times of Diaspora.

Ours has been a truth declared by drum,

right-knowing, and shared by foot, by tongue

by brighter minds, by stars that lead to freedom

by sorrow songs and chants of victory.

This place where Senates dripping shame

bitch-slap the Nation day-by-day

announce the verdict of impeachment trials

two months before any evidence is heard or the

Judge has banged the gavel to begin

can be no home of righteousness, where sin

called by its proper name is “sin”.

Should Black Americans endorse as truth

I’m right when I’m wrong, because...​?

I’m Republican, I’m elected, I am wealthy, I am white.

The claim we’ve made is not to be dismissed,

ignored or perverted because some clearly have lost

their way, and more than ever stand in need of what

we have to say.

History does not dictate our purpose; we often err and may become misguided. Without our contribution there is no USA.

Our History is written into the life of every nation on the earth

speaking, yes, about our ancestors as well of

future daughters and our sons. Those claiming part

in this universe must acknowledge inseparable facts of

life. A single Creator, with no Big Bang or

expanding time and space void of genuine purpose.

We have pitied those in confusion whose maturity is not yet

come, yet we will not let their chaos reign. Black History continues

and the Chronicles of heaven must contain us until

all eternal purpose has been done.

There is far more that should be said, correctly examined, and spiritually apprehended. (For example, Ecclesiastes 3: 14-17. King James Version (KJV): 14 I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him. 15 That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past. 16 And moreover I saw under the sun the place of judgment, that wickedness was there; and the place of righteousness, that iniquity was there. 17 I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked: for there is a time there for every purpose and for every work.). Even so, I trust this fragment will be useful. Be it unto you according to your faith.

Image downloaded 5:32 PM, January 31, 2021 @ https://talkingdrumsblog.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/african-diaspora_slave-trade.gif

©Michael Andrew Williams, 2021. All rights reserved.

THE BLACK PHOENIX

Washington, DC

(01/22/2021) So Help Me GOD!

 

The United States of America continues as a unified nation through the operations of faith appearing as commitment, integrity, and promise.  The following poem, America Is An Agreement, is shared in remembrance of Reverend, Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr., to express gratitude that America’s Constitution and process of government have been elevated and reinforced through checks and balances, and for our reflection on the Inauguration of our 46th President, Joseph Robinette Biden, Jr.  Nonviolence is not to be associated with cowardice, ignorance, fear, exaggerated pride, or racial inequality so much as with discipline, duty, godliness, maturity, mercy, respect, and self-control. It is written: 2^nd Corinthians 10: 3-5, King James Version (KJV): 3 For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh: 4 (For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds;) 5 Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;

THE GOLDEN ARROW: 1st Samuel 17: 44-46, King James Version (KJV): 44 And the Philistine said to David, Come to me, and I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the field. 45 Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. 46 This day will the LORD deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel.

THE DOUBLE DAGGER: GOD Made The World (12/19/2020); Always Connected By Spirit (08/30/2020); The Visibility of GOD (01/20/2020); The Meaning Of “Persecution” (02/12/2020); Sword Of The Spirit (11/20/2019); Patriotic Songs To Worship? (11/10/2019); Spiritual Combat Against Sin (10/11/2019); Arrayed In Sacred Favor (02/25/2018)

Image downloaded 9:45 PM, January 21, 2021 @ https://www.militarytimes.com/news/your-military/2020/06/02/tennessee-national-guard-troops-lay-down-riot-shields-at-protesters-request/

AMERICA IS AN AGREEMENT

A poem for Citizen King Day, January 17, 2021

America is an agreement among people high and low

To share, to trust, to show respect, to build, to learn, to grow

To live as diverse cities, counties, territories, minds

Free people in a covenant that seals, demands, and binds

True sons of the 3-Branch Nation stand guard in the some-day State

Nonviolent demonstrators who display what makes us great

The Executive Branch the Judicial, the only active voice

The House without the Senate endorsed the People’s choice

The Capitol shrine of freedom had no war force posted there

It’s gates were open welcoming all those who would declare

This land a home of Liberty through Justice and through Law

Protected by democracy, humility, and awe

A winter chill confronts us now beneath the righteous dome

It’s winter in America, yet, this is our one home

We are still to strive for honor giving life to higher vision

Manifesting our integrity expressed in shared decision

No single man or woman rules despising common cause

Or overturns the mandate because they seek applause

For blind-justice will be roused in truth and armed to press the fight

A battleground appearing in the Citadel of Light

Our process must be one to focus what we will become

And not a game of placing blame to scourge the deaf and dumb

The conduct of a President should not incite complaint

Their balance fosters equity, forbearance, and restraint

Our errors need correction, and with every vote we cast

We come near the day where all may say, “USA is free at last, at last

Thank GOD Almighty, we are free at last.

We agree to be free, at last.”

THE BLACK PHOENIX

Washington, DC

©Michael Andrew Williams, 2021. All rights reserved.

(01/17/2020) Twenty, 20-20

Today, choosing a gift to give suitable for celebrating the coming Citizen King holiday, I share an original poem, that does not have to be ribbon-ed and wrapped, along with special music selections to put us all on the same page. Happy Holiday.

Twenty, 20-20

[A poem acknowledging Martin Luther King, Jr. - January 20, 2020]

The citizen day will be shackled to the cold

again and flakes of white may drift to fill the distant

lover thoughts that rise like childless parents

turning to wake their charges with news of a snow day

we once more brace ourselves

for the bathroom bedroom rush

to the break off fasting table

manners if you please

awaken sleeping joy with freedom call

have we now overcome

the street safe classroom pull

we cant resist

nonviolence hushed to work for climate change

awed by new gun lawlessness

the old ways will not linger

for dressed in pjs we vow to be on time

not wanting things to start before we get there

have I become an old man

racism out of the closet

or is it just the sun is not as warm

and love will never die

©Michael Andrew Williams, 2020. All rights reserved.

THE GOLDEN ARROW: Do all things without murmurings and disputings: That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world; Holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain. (Philippians 2: 14-16, KJV)

THE DOUBLE DAGGER: Was Divine Power Squandered? (01/14/2020); White People Becoming Atheists? (10/03/2019); Black History Month, 2019 (02/24/2019); Cultural, Political, Spiritual Growth? (07/10/2016); Poem, 2015: MOONLIGHT (01/19/2015); A Godly Take on Guns (01/18/2013); It Is Finished (01/19/2013)

There is far more to be said, correctly applied, and spiritually apprehended. Hear Marvin Gaye: “I want you” and “I want you extended remix 62889”

@ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjRLbzxz_3Y  

and @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_Z0eEnS-pI. Even so, I trust this fragment will be useful. Be it unto you according to your faith.

THE BLACK PHOENIX

Washington, DC

(10/23/2018) Poem: TO BE TOLD

Today, I share an original poem I recently posted at Facebook (October 21, 2018, 9:09 PM), TO BE TOLD, BE STILL. Existing as a servant to GOD and abiding in a relationship with divinity poses many challenges to romantic love as well as to the hopes for family, home, and the stable relations of marriage. Endowed with mountain-moving faith, the Apostle Peter and others who were married made the sacrifice for many years separated from their wives while serving as evangelists and circuit preachers. It is written: Matthew 19: 23-30, King James Version (KJV): 23 Then said Jesus unto his disciples, Verily I say unto you, That a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. 24 And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. 25 When his disciples heard it, they were exceedingly amazed, saying, Who then can be saved? 26 But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible. 27 Then answered Peter and said unto him, Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore? 28 And Jesus said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. 29 And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life. 30 But many that are first shall be last; and the last shall be first.

THE GOLDEN ARROW: From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him. Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away? Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God. (John 6: 66-68, King James Version, KJV)

THE DOUBLE DAGGER: Discernment And Godly Love (06/26/2018); The Relationship As Servant (06/03/2018); The Practice of Love (07/27/2017); 1st “Poem-fall” 2017: THE SNOWFLAKE BALL (01/10/2017); Divine Jealousy? (09/11/2015); A Valentine, 2014 (02/15/2014); Family and Romance? (10/13/2012); Why Courage? (10/14/2012)

TO BE TOLD, BE STILL

It disturbs us to be told

be still and know

for the winter days begin

when we shall be encased in snow

and ice, all action frozen, paused

unwillingly, impotent, halted

like the sunshine process in the leaf

that turns the light to sweetness

from the root

Is it by stillness only fullness comes

the emptiness from all you know

dismissed, released

the days of frost rush over

hidden bulbs to bloom

in spring that may not be

how shall we bare or dare

without you

an evergreen of forest

can not exist alone

nor lovers without each other

embrace a new unknown

glacial abrasion, melting from

a heat of burning cold

putting aside our

youth with all its rage

succumbing to the quiet of old age

defiance and rebellion came

as wise, without deceit

and stealth, without fresh lies

through stolen moments

kisses fresh as dew

creating memories

that keep us new

and joined alive to life

what God has joined together

celebrate, receive as blessing

should deadly chill winds echo

I will never ever leave

and though we be apart

when shadows fall

in strength of what we share

I will not grieve

©Michael Andrew Williams, 2018. All rights reserved.

There is far more that should be considered, correctly examined, and spiritually apprehended. Even so, I trust this fragment will be useful. Be it unto you according to your faith.

THE BLACK PHOENIX

Washington, DC

(02/25/2018) Arrayed In Sacred Favor

Today, reply is on recognizing poetry and prose, and a third poem is shared as Black History Month begins to conclude.  A writer in the “Yahoo! Answers” Arts & Humanities:  Poetry forum who uses the ID “ugly duckling101” (Level 3 with 1,221 points, a member since August 25, 2014) posted the following:


Is this poem or prose? comment if you wish?

The little lunch box

She packed all of her favorite
puzzle pieces neatly inside
the numbered, shapes
and lettered ones.
Closing the lid with Yoda on top
she grabs the white handle
and places the little black box
into the now repurposed 10 gallon
blue diamond toy crock
stained with wine on the inside
and pulls out her etch-a-sketch
and gives it a shake
wiping it clean.


THE GOLDEN ARROW:  A good man out of the good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things:  and an evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth evil things.  But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.  For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.  (Matthew 12:  35-37, King James Version, KJV)


THE DOUBLE DAGGER:  Bloody Sunday -- Black History (02/14/2018); Black History -- Johannesburg Gold (02/05/2018); Poem:  Adam’s Time of Sleep (01/016/2017); 1st “Poem-fall” 2017: THE SNOWFLAKE BALL (01/10/2017); Where Should We Look? (02/04/2015); Spring-training (04/11/2014); Kill the Blog Writer! (04/12/2014); A Valentine, 2014 (02/15/2014)


“ugly duckling101”, here are some ideas I am willing to share:
Even where no one else “gets his thought,” or they may fail to “make their  point,” creative writers always must know their own intent and purpose.  Many professional writers will agree that the identity and process of their own works only emerge by accord and covenant (i.e., silent, unspoken agreements and contracts with those who will critique, examine, and read as mature literary persons including editors, publishers, reviewers, and teachers).  To be recognized as the work of a specific writer, a poem, essay, novel, etc. must display, express and impart a familiar style coupled with the peculiar insights, purposes, favored techniques, and understandings of its creator while also being congruent with, expanding on, and mirroring elements within the fullness of a reader (e.g., desires, longings, memories, thing that are now forgotten).  In the effort to achieve the highest levels for freedom of expression, many today are abandoning the formal models and patterns once used to establish discipline and provide standards for excellence among writers of both poetry and prose.  Hip hop will be heard as sophisticated oral and performance poetry, and part of its richness is that it blends techniques from cultural celebration and oral tradition along with devices for preservation and survival of intellectual property.

There is far more to be said, correctly examined, and spiritually apprehended.  (For example, my personal approach that acknowledges the need for simplicity and surprise can be seen in the following piece suitable to be shared as Black History Month 2018 begins to draw to its close.  The work is intended to be plain, yet, comprehensive and instructive in its focus:

WHAT SHALL WE WEAR TO FREEDOM
[A Citizen King’s Day Poem - January 15, 2007]

What shall we wear to freedom come the morning of the march?
Blue overalls or dungarees, white shirts with heavy starch?

New fiber, new resilience, just to walk a simple way
That may end in jail or bloodshed by the finish of the day?

A soft and easy armor for the farmlands where we toil?
The clothing of oppression for the Mississippi soil?

For the Alabama courthouse?  For the network TV news?
Our best suit from Sunday’s sermon, and our polished Sunday shoes?

Work boots from a Georgia chain gang?  Or the running shoes for play
And the things we may dispose of when the blood won’t wash away?

What shall we wear to freedom, all the tears we shed last night,
Now invisible and hidden as the morning starts to light?

Daubed in color, clad like rainbows, and in celebration best?
Draped in black to bury evil, putting racism to rest?

Sporting Irish green, or turquoise, russet, lavender or pink?
Naked?  Unashamed?  Non-violent, and secure in what we think?

Shall we not stand in our honor with our eyes fixed on the prize,
Answering the tattoo cadence taking not one step for lies?

Knowing death will come on quickly if we fly or sound retreat,
Let us steel our hearts with purpose, and go voting with our feet.


What shall we wear to duty, given wars are won by deeds,
The shackles of enslavement?  The innocence of needs?

A mask of feigned devotion to disguise a boiling rage?
A cloak of prowling power like a panther in a cage?

For the streets of Cicero, or Harlem, Oslo, or Hanoi?
Where the sacrifice of blood will purchase neither peace, nor joy?

Shall the promise of America, an equality of men,
Be forgotten in an instant because we don’t wear the same skin?

Those with whom we cannot reason can be bullied, can be bought,
Can no longer be inspired, followed, trusted, led or taught

True democracy is more than where you sit upon the bus
For it speaks to human dignity and touches all of us:

It’s a quality of being in our future and our past,
It’s a light shone on our children, and the things we build to last

More than all our secret longing, our opinions, our desire,
Our shared duty and shared privilege, and a flame of common fire

Fueled in spending of our taxes, and enacting all our laws,
Fanned in choosing all our leaders, and in purging out our flaws.

It’s the heartbeat of our nation, how that all may have full voice
Saying what we wear to freedom is a matter of our choice.


What shall we wear returning once the sun begins to wane,
And the shadow of the twilight swallows up the ground we gain?

Battle scars? A badge of courage?  All the horror of the day?
Having worn respect and laurels we should never cast away?

Put on smiles of hollow victory, the grimaces of sorrow,
In an agony of knowing we must trek again tomorrow?

Where imperatives of meaning and compassion fall to lust
Every covenant is broken, and we dare not yield or trust.

We must put on lasting values, and a strength that will renew
Through the righteousness and justice in the simple things we do

Where the process of believing and receiving truth through grace
And the march of faith toward Zion will continue to have place.

What we seek is that perfection where the things of light endure,
All the balance and completeness men achieve as they mature,

The fruit of silent struggle where the mind and heart once closed
Become open to discover through the values once opposed.

It comes down to understanding, and a dream we all may share
Even where we seek a freedom just to choose what we shall wear:

We must call to the Eternal, then step forward unafraid
To be damned or crowned with glory for the choices we have made.


What shall we wear to judgment, then, to bow before the King,
At the throne of purest worship where the holy angels sing?

Don the garments of his priesthood, or the jewels of his crown,
Our humility and reverence, casting every idol down?

For Chicago, Selma, Little Rock, Montgomery, tears afresh?
An uncircumcised religion, or the arrogance of flesh?

The water of baptism?  Lips seared from the altar’s fire?
The diadem of deeds that godly blessing will require?

Shall we rise up in that dawning wrapped in mantles of his grace
Golden sandals on our feet, and free to look upon his face?

In a coat of many colors, or a fragrance of the saints?
With a scowl of our defiance, or the curse of our complaints?

We ourselves create the record heaven holds until the time
We are called before the universe to answer every crime.
 
There’s no entry on our ledger introduced by demon foe,
Only wanderings and journeys where our spirit chose to go,

True salvation from the Lord is never won by sword and spear:
By each honest step in patience we elect what will appear,

What the Son of GOD will cover by his blood from Calvary
Will remain un-resurrected and no living eye shall see.

Should the books reveal our trembling, unadorned, barefoot, unshod,
They must also show this wisdom, that we humbly walked with GOD,

That we marched for heaven’s governance and liberty’s increase,
Having cast our votes for mercy and the flowing robes of peace.

THE BLACK PHOENIX

©Michael Andrew Williams.  Washington, DC.  February 2011.  All rights reserved.)

Even so, I trust this fragment will be useful.  Be it unto you according to your faith.

THE BLACK PHOENIX

Washington, DC

(02/14/2018) Bloody Sunday -- Black History

Today, a second Black History Month poem is shared acknowledging faith as a grain of mustard seed, American democracy, and some of the special, present-day work of former civil rights leader, Congressman John Lewis of Georgia.  I was very impressed by a news broadcast that included the congressman responding to questions from elementary and high school aged children, their parents, and teachers.  Congressman Lewis explained to one student that when he first met Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. the famous leader for social justice asked Lewis whether he was “the boy from Troy?”  [Troy, Alabama], and that was how Lewis at first would be known (see John Lewis Teaches Md. Students About Civil Rights Movement, by Meagan Fitzgerald News 4 @ https://www.nbcwashington.com/news/local/Rep-John-Lewis-Teaches-Md-Students-About-Civil-Rights_Washington-DC-473990323.html).


THE GOLDEN ARROW:  Then the angel that talked with me answered and said unto me, Knowest thou not what these be? And I said, No, my lord.  Then he answered and spake unto me, saying, This is the word of the Lord unto Zerubbabel, saying, Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.  Who art thou, O great mountain? before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain:  and he shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto it.  (Zechariah 4:  5-7, King James Version, KJV)


THE DOUBLE DAGGER:  Black History -- Johannesburg Gold (02/05/2018); Secular History, Sacred Revelation? (01/11/2018); George Washington Owned Slaves (08/17/2017); Righteousness Exalts A Nation (07/04/2017); Fulfillment of His Dream? (04/05/2017); Can Christians Be Racists? (07/25/2016); Cultural, Political, Spiritual Growth? (07/10/2016)

BLOODY SUNDAY

A Poem Acknowledging the courage of Congressman John Lewis and the Young People of America Willing to Recall The Civil Rights March, Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, (03/07/1965) - Black History Month, February 13, 2018.


The Congressman was called to work, today
Among the young to point the path and way
A span to reach tomorrow that would arch
From yesterday that taught the bloody march.

The elder sat with sprouts and budding youths
Who showed a hunger for the lasting truths
To let them tap his courage once again
With wisdom words and answers that were plain.

Too often, we leave needed things unsaid
Because we fear to have them in our head,
Our heart, deep wounds that only close
When truth is shared and everybody knows.

Black students understood for things to change
The promise of America can’t be strange
Or foreign to those born, raised in this land.
For power of the vote, they took a stand.

On U.S. Highway 80 was the site
Where lawless pride created darkest night
With death and oppression threatening to destroy
The hope for freedom in the Boy From Troy.

S.N.C.C. rallied those who dared to walk in peace
So being without voting rights would cease.
After years of work, the time had come to go
But brutal police power told them, NO!

To register to vote at freedom’s call
Should never be a cause for one to fall
To fail in fear, or die, or run and scatter
As though it is not true that Black lives matter.

Corruption, hatred, rot, should not prevail
Even where it means you go to jail
The justice of the cause can make men strong
To be steadfast, and work to right the wrong.

When children look into the past to learn
Their lessons must surpass “burn, baby, burn.”
We fashioned then a voice to crack the silence,
Insured their home through patience and nonviolence.

The future leaders for our land have shared
With one who held the line that day, and dared.
They too will live the dream in victory
Casting the single vote to keep all free.

©2018.  Michael Andrew Williams.  All rights reserved



There is far more to be said, correctly examined, and spiritually apprehended.  Even so, I trust this fragment will be useful.  Be it unto you according to your faith.

THE BLACK PHOENIX
Washington, DC

(02/05/2018) Black History -- Johannesburg Gold

Remembering Hugh Masekela
And the Americanization of Ooga Booga

Today, my annual poem acknowledging Black History month is shared.  A griot, musician, storyteller, and teacher, Hugh Masekela was forced to flee to the United States (USA) from his home in South Africa (USA), and he carried with him the rich culture, heart, and treasure of its people to six continents.  Masekela proclaimed a “promise of the future” and, at the same time, he projected a look to the human heritage and legacy many thought were irretrievably lost.


THE GOLDEN ARROW:  After this I looked, and, behold, a door was opened in heaven:  and the first voice which I heard was as it were of a trumpet talking with me; which said, Come up hither, and I will shew thee things which must be hereafter.  And immediately I was in the spirit:  and, behold, a throne was set in heaven, and one sat on the throne.  And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and a sardine stone:  and there was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto an emerald.  And round about the throne were four and twenty seats:  and upon the seats I saw four and twenty elders sitting, clothed in white raiment; and they had on their heads crowns of gold.  (Revelation 4:  1-4, King James Version, KJV)


THE DOUBLE DAGGER:  Acknowledging The Precious Things (02/01/2017); Prophesying By Music Ministers (11/06/2017); Poem — What’s In A Name? (06/05/2016); Poem for Amiri Baraka (01/15/2014); Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela:  An Acknowledgment (12/12/2013); GOD Speaking Through Song? (11/01/2013); Why Not One Bible? (11/02/2013); Recognizing True Prophets (05/02/2013); Jesus, A Party Animal? (05/03/2013)

JOHANNESBURG GOLD

For Jazz Giant, Hugh Ramapolo Masekela (1939-2018)
 Black History Month 2018

What for?  A dust pouch fat after blasts to make the rock release its grip

To be never unknown in a place where slick is hip

A brief applause that pushes the cigarette salesman away

The wail of the coal train whistling through the starless day

From this side of the cavern to the next, from this side of the pain, to the other

It's what I would do were I free to love again

It's what I would do because I love my brother.


What for?  I stand, I teach, Pan African oneness, Negritude, escape from apartheid death

Or Miles Dewey Davis challenging me, calling forth my every living breath

Mbaqanga beginnings heard where the little head boys don’t graze

Six continents to span, to finally say, I’m here, Diaspora home, and praise

Our ancestors saying, I am here, and, free at last, and my own man

I am here and free, in a strange, new ingot hoarding land.


What is wrong with moving, changing, growing, never still

Loving long enough for sons to receive an overspill

Hear me under the earth, come up from down below

Never let injustice quench the light of possibility, or cage Unohilo

We are always safe in the arms of love, and the bishop’s gift was not by coincidence

Hear the trumpet calling us to heritage without mystery to “Ooga Booga” with new excellence

©Michael Andrew Williams, 2018.  All rights reserved.

Acknowledging the fullness in the body of Christ, there is far more to be said, correctly examined, and spiritually apprehended.  Even so, I trust this fragment will be useful.  Be it unto you according to your faith.

THE BLACK PHOENIX
Washington, DC

(02/01/2017) Acknowledging The Precious Things

Today, the Duke and the King are remembered in a poem acknowledging the transformation of a culture.

COTILLION DREAMS
A Poem for Black History Month, 2017

There has to be a time to count the cost
To recognize the price we paid to gain
Acknowledging the precious things now lost
By choosing sacrifice and not surrender

And so be made to value here and now
In waking hours meant to build tomorrow
Assigning value both to what and how
As well as consequences unforeseen

My granddad lived his dream of gallant night
The ballroom lit with crystal chandelier
The gracious daughters beaming their dark light
An assemblage of urban princesses and queens

The freedom to seek their love, a willing mate
Who would dance and soar forever until dawn
When sunlight would restore a harsh, black fate
Cotillion and its liberty all gone

Until another generation lifts their heart
With dreams and hopes of shining in brigade
Sounding a trumpet to announce their start
Our entering nobility, coming of age

Just as I reached the day to dream the same
A new demand for Civil Rights was heard
The balm that lessened Segregation’s shame
Erased by the dream of struggle, honor, triumph

The black men we had thought we would become
Would never exist, the way to manhood’s joy
Revealed as marches, beatings, death for some
Jack and Jill, and debutante days a memory 

We are to understand what we now see
Was paid for not with trinkets of the past
But with futures and roots to our reality
And it’s right to ask, did we pay too much?

A people blessed by GOD to reign with style
Harassed by weak and beggarly police
The Nation owes a debt, return our smile
America’s dream for our youth must not cease

The Ellington elegance and beauty yet alive
Our passion for human dignity no less
Is not to be taken away before they dream it
Their inalienable right to be gentlemen and ladies

Thug life and branding irons cast away
Knowing their lives matter throughout a universe
And given their fair chance they will obey
The higher laws of grace and cotillion unafraid

A birthright has to be more than pain
And crops of poverty
The tears of grief instead of rain
To drench our thirsting sons

An inheritance must be more than dreams
And a heritage more than death
Ripples of honor should merge as streams
And join to deep oceans of faith

The surface of the earth our dwelling place
The sky an expanse for flight
With room for stars and every race
Forging bonds of possibility

The unforgettable victory
Fearless generations knit
New vision that otherwise would not be
Sacred music for satin dolls

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.  Ephesians 6:  12-13, King James Version (KJV)

©2017.  Michael Andrew Williams, Washington, DC.  All rights reserved.

THE BLACK PHOENIX
Washington, DC